


The Only Heaven I'll Be Sent To (Is When I'm Alone With You)

by Cheeseydare



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alpha Jon Snow, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Rhaegar Won, Bonding, Breeding Kink, Cunnilingus, Doggy Style, F/M, Feels, Fluff and Smut, Impregnation, Jon Snow is a Targaryen, Knotting, Love, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Multiple Orgasms, Omega Arya Stark, Rough Sex, Smut, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:20:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24806866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cheeseydare/pseuds/Cheeseydare
Summary: Jon carries a love for his younger cousin that he believes won't be allowed. Arya's presentation as an Omega proves him wrong.
Relationships: Jon Snow/Arya Stark
Comments: 13
Kudos: 172





	The Only Heaven I'll Be Sent To (Is When I'm Alone With You)

**Author's Note:**

> Found a surprising dearth of A/B/O stories in this fandom and none with this pairing, so I decided to write one. As per usual, I am completely incapable of writing just pure smut and so I stuffed it full of fluff lol. See end notes for a further dialogue if you wish, but for now, enjoy!  
> (p.s. Yes, Take Me to Church was my soundtrack for writing this. Hozier is the GOAT)

Jon was afraid that one day soon his eyes might roll straight from his head given the ample and frequent cause he had to indulge. He watched disinterestedly as Sansa walked with Jeyne on the far side of the yard, giving him not so subtle looks. 

It was a shame she took so much after her mother, for she was a beautiful young Omega who would one day make someone a very good wife, but Jon couldn’t have been less interested in her. Catelyn’s teachings had left Sansa docile and naive, neither of which interested Jon. That her scent was a bland, forgettable thing just sealed his opinion.

No, his heart had been captured wholly by his younger, wilder cousin. Jon would have found the irony of falling for a she-wolf of Winterfell just as his father had amusing if it didn’t pain him so much. He knew the match would never be approved, not before Jon had been wed to someone else. It was already nearing a point where people were wondering if his father would just betroth him, regardless of his promise to let his children make their own matches. 

His presentation as an Alpha a number of years before had surprised some who had ridiculous ideas about what Alphas and Omegas were supposed to be like, such as his aunt Catelyn. His own mother was an Omega and she had been as far from meek and shy as possible. Jon had found that someone’s presentation had very little to do with their personality. 

Arya was everything to him. They had bonded almost immediately after his arrival to foster and he watched as she blossomed into a breathtaking and willful young woman. He could deny her nothing and she knew it full well, as he gave her lessons in the bow and the sword and accompanied her on rides and hunts through the Wolfswood. Arya would tease and poke and pry, smirking and calling him an idiot but Jon knew their bond was true, neither able to fit the image everyone thought they should, relying on the other for company and support.

Robb’s punch to his shoulder brought his attention back. “What was that for?” 

His cousin rolled his own eyes. “Your head was leagues away. Are you alright?”

“Yes, just thinking. You should try it sometime.” He laughed as Robb pushed him. “Have you seen Arya? She was supposed to shoot with us.” 

Robb shrugged his shoulders. “Not today but she could be anywhere. Arya’s never met a challenge she didn’t like.” 

Jon nodded his agreement but swept his eyes over the yard again, not seeing her anywhere. It was entirely possible she had gotten caught up by her mother or father or that damned Septa his aunt insisted on. He figured she would make her way to him eventually, likely complaining about something or other, arms crossed and lips pulled into a frown. It was far too cute a look on her, not that Jon had ever told her such as she would probably punch him for it. 

He stayed out, even after Robb left for his lessons, but she never arrived. Jon gave the yard another glance and left with a frown. The path to his rooms was rote at this point and Jon spent the walk trying to smother his disappointment. He knew it was selfish and that Arya had other responsibilities outside of him but the joy of her presence was something he wanted as much as he could manage.

The scent of it was the first thing he noticed. Tart and sweet and thick on the air. Jon was nearly struck dumb as it flooded his nose but he managed to shut and bar the door to his room without taking his eyes off of her. 

Arya was splayed on his bed, naked as the day she was born, in a veritable puddle of her own slick and sweat. She had a pillow clenched in her teeth but he could still hear her whimper while she worked four of her fingers into her swollen cunt. The other worked desperately at her pearl, though he knew it would provide little relief. 

His own body showed none of the hesitation he felt, cock straining against his breeches and heart pounding in his chest. Jon could feel the flush of arousal roll through his body as his cheeks grew warm and sweat beaded along his neck. He must have made some shocked noise as Arya’s eyes snapped to him immediately. 

“Jon. Please, gods, please help.” Arya flexed her hips off the bed as she sobbed through the burning Jon knew she felt. Without the pillow to muffle her sounds of agony, each tore straight through his heart. 

Jon’s instincts had him halfway to the bed before he stopped himself. Arya whimpered, tears streaming down her cheeks. He wanted nothing more than to relieve her suffering. 

“I-I should leave, get the Maester,” he said roughly. Jon clenched his fists to stop from removing his clothes or grabbing her. 

Arya launched upright with a wail, grasping his tunic tightly. “No, I need you, Jon. I want it to be you. Please, I came to you, for you. _Please_.” 

Jon felt his whole body tense at the contact. His cock and his instincts screamed for him to claim her, to fuck her and fill her and watch her grow round with their children. His mind was half in agreement for the love he bore her, but the other half fought to make him do the sensible and responsible thing. 

“Arya, I can’t do this. I love you too much to only soothe your heat. Please, don’t ask me to taste what I cannot have.” Jon turned his head to hide the tears burning in his eyes. 

Her hands, still drenched in her arousal and sweat, cupped his cheeks to turn his gaze back to her. Arya shuddered, the heat still wracking her frame but he could see the familiar blaze of fierceness that he loved. “I love you. I want you, for now and ever, Jon. Fuck everyone else, we won’t need them if we have each other.” 

The last of his resolve crumbled as Jon saw the truth written on her face and heard it in her words. His rut began in earnest as he gave up trying to hold off. He threaded one hand through her hair as the other gripped her hip. Arya’s lips were soft as he met her in a slow kiss which rapidly grew heated as she moaned into his mouth and pressed herself flush against his front. 

Her hands scrabbled across his body, searching for the ties that held his clothes on him. He pulled away and discarded his tunic as he kicked off his boots. Arya’s fingers plucked the ties on his breeches and he shed them with his smallclothes. Her nimble little hands grasped his cock, long and thick and achingly hard. Jon gave a growl of pleasure, following to lay over her as she tipped back over. 

“Shh, I’ve got you little wolf. I’m going to give you exactly what you need.” He pressed kisses all across her cheeks, tasting the salt of her tears.

Arya whimpered against his neck as he palmed her breast, pinching and plucking her taut nipples. His other hand slid through the damp curls around her sex, feeding her two and then three fingers, curling them upwards as he readied her. She clamped down after only a few moments, having been stuck on the edge for an untold time. Jon slowly slid down her body, licking and biting her nipples in turn, kissing across her stomach and hips.

“Please, your cock. Fuck me, Jon,” Arya begged. Her fingers twined through his hair, tugging roughly which only served to make him continue on his path south.

Jon settled between her legs, the scent far more intoxicating than any ale he’d ever had. Her lower lips were parted, slick and swollen, and he wasted no time taking a taste. Arya’s fingers tightened further, even as her back bowed off the bed. He slid his tongue from her entrance to the pearl at the top, groaning at the exquisite taste. 

She was so responsive, jumping and twitching at the lightest touch that Jon felt heady with the power she had given him. Her cunt clamped and pulsed around his fingers as she climaxed again. Jon was sorely tempted to stay between her thighs, feasting to his heart’s content but he knew that he had only lessened the burning. Arya needed his seed and knot to have a reprieve and he desperately wanted to give it to her as well. 

His forearms bracketed her head as he settled over her smaller frame. Arya angled her hips to allow his cock to drag through her sopping folds, each of them groaning at the sensation. Jon looked down at her and saw love and lust staring back from grey eyes like his own. He was sure she saw the same from him as he felt it with everything he was. 

Arya notched his tip at her entrance. Jon pressed a soft kiss to her lips and seated his cock in her fully in a single stroke. The slippery heat nearly took his breath away as her cunt clasped and pulled at him, the pleasure prickling along his spine. Arya’s eyes fell shut as they both moaned. 

Jon retreated and pushed forward, building a steady momentum. The wet slide of his cock sounded through the room, joining their grunts and moans and the slap of skin meeting. Her legs wrapped around his hips as her fingers sought purchase on his shoulders and back. The new angle brought her to climax and Jon thought he would lose his mind as she clamped around him. 

“Gods, you look so beautiful taking my cock, little wolf. Feel so good wrapped around me, so wet.” Jon growled as she scored his back with her blunt nails. He twisted her nipple in response and she bared her teeth at him. When he slipped a hand between them to smooth circles into the nub at the apex of her cunt, though, her moans reverberated off the walls. 

His own end was fast approaching as his knot swelled. Jon put his power behind his last thrusts, catching the knot in her cunt as he came, Arya’s name a moan and a prayer and plea all at once. The sharp pleasure of it spiked through him, leaving a tingling in its wake. He felt her cunt contract again as she peaked, wringing him for every last drop of seed she could, gasping his name against his ear. 

Their labored breathing was the only sound as they lay locked together, his cock still twitching within her, filling her with his seed. An image of her flashed through his mind of her, belly swollen with their child. Just the idea of it put a silly grin on his face, even though he knew first heats very rarely conceived a child. 

When he went to roll them over so she could rest atop him, Arya stopped him. “I… I like this, the feeling of you covering me, protecting me. Your weight is comforting.” 

Jon chuckled but acquiesced, settling himself comfortably as they would be stuck until his knot deflated. He pressed a tender kiss against her temple, letting his lips linger. 

“I love you.” The words were murmured against her skin yet carried through the silence all the same. Jon felt her shiver against him. 

“I want you to mark me.” 

Jon pulled back so he could see her face. Even flushed with arousal and a sheen of sweat, Arya’s seriousness was plain to see. She had never looked more lovely to him. 

“Are you absolutely sure?” She nodded determinedly, giving him a true smile. “Then you’ll mark me as well.” 

Arya’s eyes widened as her breath hitched. He leant into the hand she softly carded through his hair. “I love you, Jon.” 

He took her lips in a sweet kiss and her mouth parted without hesitation. Their tongues met and curled around the other in a smooth embrace. Jon lost himself in her, tasting and taking and basking in what he never thought he would have. Arya threw herself into it wholeheartedly and he knew she would be burning soon enough.

It was only a few more minutes before his knot had come down enough for him to slide free of Arya. She mewled at the sensation, hands already reaching for his cock but Jon sat back on his haunches and grinned at her. 

“Hands and knees, little wolf.” 

He hadn’t claimed her yet but she still hurried to comply, turning over and drawing her knees up hips canted as her chest lay on the bed. Jon moaned at the sight of her cunt, slick with her essence and his seed, spread before him. It was the prettiest and filthiest thing he’d ever seen. Arya whined when he stroked her pearl, pushing her hips back in offering. 

Jon shuffled forward, grasping his cock and dragging it through the mess of her. She rolled her hips each time he caught her nub with the head of his cock. Without warning, he aligned himself and slid the full girth of his cock into her cunt, pressing himself flush to her body. 

The slick, silky warmth of her cunt around his cock was a feeling he would never grow tired of. Jon threaded his hand through her hair and pulled, arching her back as he began to well and truly fuck her. There was no mercy as he strummed her pearl in time with his rapid, deep thrusts. This was a show of dominance and he relished in it all the more for knowing that Arya let him have it. 

She peaked with a whine, her cunt squeezing and pulsing around him. Arya fell onto the mattress as he released her hair, turning so she could glance over her shoulder at him. Jon moulded himself to her back, shifting to short, hard thrusts as he laved at her mating gland. His mind was a swarming mass of needs and desires, his instincts controlling everything as he inhaled her scent.

“Your pretty little cunt feels so good, little wolf. Such a good little bitch for me, I’ll give you what you need. Fuck, I’m going to knot you, fill your belly with a babe.” Jon grunted as she peaked again. He sunk his teeth into her gland as he forced his swelling knot into her. His climax slammed through him, his vision going nearly white with its intensity. “Gods, _Arya_!” 

Jon rolled them to their sides as his arms had given out during his climax and he didn’t want to smother her. He was also glad for an excuse to act on his long held desire to curl his larger frame around hers. They fit together perfectly and he pressed a featherlight kiss to her mating mark. Arya shivered and moaned as he continued to pulse within her. 

“Jon?” 

“Hmm?” Arya twisted her torso to look more fully at him so Jon leaned up on his elbow. The nervousness in her expression squeezed his heart with fear and he tried to correct his course. “I’m sorry if anything I said offended you. It just felt natural. You know I have nothing but respect for you.” 

Her brow furrowed before she grinned at him. “Trust me, I can tell when the rut is talking and when you are. I sort of liked it. Just during my heat, though, otherwise I’ll kick your arse.” 

“I believe it.” He kissed her forehead but found she was frowning when he pulled back. “What is it?”

“What you said, about me getting pregnant… You know that I’m not a lady, right? That’s not me, kids and sewing and gods only know what else.” 

Jon tilted his head at her. “Of course I do. I love you, Arya, and you will always be enough. I love you in breeches, your hair tangled, and dirt on your cheek. The calluses on your fingers and your dreams of being more, of seeing the world. I would never hold you back or force you to be something you’re not because then you wouldn’t be who I fell in love with. Truth be told, the thought of you in a dress is terrifying.” 

He laughed as she hit his chest, even as she blushed and smiled at him. Jon smiled down at her as he continued. “All that being said, I think you would make a fantastic mother. Our children would never want for love or support, and they would be fierce and proud and righteous, because of you.” 

She trailed a hand across his beard with her lips pursed. “I don’t know I’ll ever want them as you do. I just… I’m not sure I’ll be what you think I am. What if I turn out like my mother, harassing them and trying to shape them? I don’t ever want to make a child, our child, feel unwelcome in their own home.” 

“You are the furthest person from your mother that I can imagine.” He gave her a gentle kiss, then murmured against her lips,” And please, never mention your mother again while I have my cock in your cunt.” 

Arya laughed and pushed his shoulder. “You have a rather dirty mouth, my prince. I love it.” She grew contemplative again and he stroked a hand over her hip. “Do you still want me to mark you, even if I never give you kids?” 

Jon simply bared his neck and leant down. He felt her sharp exhale of breath followed by her teeth breaking through his skin. There was a shift, deep within his very spirit, and he knew he would never take another for as long as he lived. The thought of spending the rest of his life with her filled him with a joy and contentment he’d never known and wouldn’t trade for anything. 

Arya’s smile was ecstatic when he pulled back and he couldn’t help but match it. Their lips met in another tangle as his knot began to deflate. She pushed him to his back and slid astride his hips with the same ease that she mounted horses. Jon thought she looked like a goddess in the firelight as she sank down on his cock. He would happily worship her every day for the rest of his life. 

-TOH-

Jon fell back in his seat with a groan, the bridge of his nose pinched between his fingers. A peek out the window showed the purple hue of dusk stretching across the sky. He closed his tome gently and replaced it on the shelf, eager to find his wife and sup with her. 

It had been a few hours since Arya had not so gently barred him from their chambers for being too overbearing. It had become a more frequent occurrence in the last moon of her pregnancy, though she always welcomed him back with ardor, so it wasn’t so terrible a thing.

Their bonding had caused about as much consternation as he thought it would. Aunt Catelyn had been both horrified and affronted that it was Arya and not Sansa that he chose. His uncle Ned had given him a disappointed look and a speech about honor and duty that made Jon feel as though he had betrayed the man, though he couldn’t imagine how that was possible. 

His father had been unable to say anything against him without sounding like a hypocrite. Aegon and Rhaenys were thoroughly amused by the whole thing but both were happy for him. The fact that Jon allowed Arya to claim him meant there was very little any of them could do other than accept it, however begrudgingly. 

They had wed in the Godswood of Winterfell within the fortnight after they emerged from his chambers two days later. Arya had played a mummery and let her mother fashion her a dress, then arrived in breeches and a jerkin, the sword Jon had gifted her at her hip. He thought she looked beautiful regardless, though he greatly enjoyed the scandalized looks of everyone present, except for Robb who was forced to smother his laughter. 

That had been over two years prior and every day Jon found the depth of his love increasing, in ways he never imagined. He knew he was blessed beyond measure to spend his days with his best friend and he cherished them all. Arya had mellowed a little over that time, more content to sit still but she still had the untameable spirit that drew him in. 

They had spent their time travelling the Free Cities until her pregnancy had been confirmed, after their disastrous fortnight at court where Arya had called one lord stupid and beaten another in a very public spar. If those men thought Jon would reprimand her they were sorely disappointed as his response had been to try and fuck her through their bed. Her confidence and fierceness got his blood up in ways very little else did. 

“Prince Jon! Prince Jon!” The shouts startled him. He turned to find a servant hurrying towards him. The young woman curtsied as she stopped. “Princess Arya has entered into labor. She requests your presence immediately.” 

Jon was already running before the woman had finished speaking, the hallowed halls of his ancestors nothing but a grey blur. He found Ghost and Nymeria laid out as sentinels before the door to their chambers. Each perked up as he passed but he wasted no time, entering to find Arya pacing through their rooms. A maidservant was holding her hand and moving with her. 

Arya’s eyes found him immediately and her shoulders dropped in relief. Jon quickly replaced the maidservant, letting her hold his hand as the other rested along her lower back. She wore only a shift and slippers, the large swell of her stomach obvious and uncomfortable. He pressed a kiss against her temple. 

“Took you long enough.” Arya shot him a little grin and he laughed. A contraction rolled through her and she grunted, squeezing his hand tightly. She sighed when it ended and Jon gave her a reassuring smile. 

It carried on like such deep into the night. Candles were lit and a fire stoked as they waited until finally the maester said it was time to begin pushing. The man had foolishly tried to remove Jon from the room but Arya had threatened to string him up by his guts, so Jon settled behind her, letting her lean against him as she began the true work. 

He’d once heard it said that the birthing bed was a woman’s battlefield and seeing it firsthand, Jon thought it an accurate comparison given the blood and yelling and pain involved. Arya was fearless, though, and that familiar steely determination he loved so much was on full display. He whispered encouragement to her as she screamed and cursed and tried to grind the bones of his hands to dust. Listening as their child howled and wailed with all the fury of a wolf and dragon brought tears to his eyes. 

“A healthy princess.” 

He felt Arya half sob half sigh at the maester’s words. The maids removed the bloody linens and towels, leaving fresh ones next to a basin of water before they left. The maester handed Arya the newest princess of House Targaryen and Jon peered over her shoulder, feeling his breath catch. 

His daughter was a tiny little thing, face still red and scrunched. He could see tufts of fine silver on her head and blue eyes that would change in the coming moons. Arya cradled her against her chest and she took only a moment to latch onto her mother’s breast. 

Arya huffed. “Already an independent little one, aren’t you?” 

Jon gently kissed her mating mark. “Thank you.” 

“It takes two, Jon. I… I wouldn’t trade this for anything. I already love her so much it’s overwhelming.” 

“I know how you feel.” He inhaled deeply. “Did you decide on a name?” 

“Visenya. She’ll be bold and true, free to live her life as she wishes.” 

Jon sighed happily as he held his family close, convinced there was no higher feeling of elation in life. He had the holiest thing he knew in his arms and there was nothing he wouldn't do to protect it. 

  
  
  
  


  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> There are some inherent consent issues that come with the general A/B/O dynamics. Often this trope is used to bind together two characters who hate each other. In my world, a heat/rut doesn't leave you completely mindless and I hope that came across. Arya knew she was presenting as an Omega and CHOSE to wait in Jon's room knowing he was an Alpha. Jon is initially reluctant and could have left if he came across someone in heat (i.e. Sansa) who he really didn't want to fuck.  
> Also, as I mentioned, presentation doesn't really have an impact on personality. I tried to keep the two characters as true to themselves in this situation as possible. Instead, people often make assumptions and have notions about what A/O SHOULD act like, and beat this into their children's heads.


End file.
